


On The Brink

by beaubcxton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, ILL ADD OTHER STUFF LATER AS WE GO ON, eventual angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaubcxton/pseuds/beaubcxton
Summary: James Potter is fine. Really, he is. It's just that he wasn't expecting to wake up, shirtless with a woman glaring at him from the corner of his bedside. With no recollection of the night and a surprising twist of events, James sets out to find out who this mysterious (and gorgeous) woman is and whether the possibility of saving her is fiction or not. (Multiple Chapters)





	On The Brink

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the Avengers. Spam my friends, @aster-ria and @recgulus on tumblr with affection, thanks.

He's sleeping when the stars align and when time stands still. Or more simply, when the catalyst of an unanticipated experience is set into motion and his life, consequently, takes a sharp and unexpected turn.

 The blankets are fuzzy against his cheek and he drifts in and out from a deep slumber.

 “What the hell?” Someone shrieks above him and he senses some shuffling on the bed accompanied with hurried admonishing.

 James ignores it at first, not finding it in himself to bother and nestles into the pillow and hums but winces as his throat stings, the residue of last night’s alcohol still burning at the pit of his stomach.

 “Oh my Gosh.”

 His lips tug downward but then the cry get registered, a very unfamiliar cry, and he jolts up with a pang. There's a woman (a goddess judging by her radial looks, fucking bullock, his heart squeezes at the very sight of her) staring at him with her mouth dropped open in an O shape. Her hair is immaculately neat which announces she's a prude.

 The topic of sex could then be thrown off the table, then, but still, confusion stirred in his mind like fog on a cloudy day.

  _Had they?_

 James shut his eyes for a brief second and tries to recollect.

 He’s not like this usually. No, really. It was a spur of the moment thing and his friends had been moping about how he never spent time with them anymore. The character of a drunken bard belonged solely to Sirius while Remus was the fond exasperated philosopher who quoted vines after three shots.

 James was the type of bloke who went to wine tasting but gulped down the glass in a few seconds and when peer pressure descended upon him, claimed it was “airy wine with a special fragrance.”

 Most of the time, he could be found pored over fiction and fantasy books and a cuppa of tea resting atop his palm.

 James wasn't like this before. In fact, he was the Romeo to Sirius’s Juliet exempting the tragedy and death, of course, but ever since, _that incident,_ he had kindled a thirst for a quieter approach.

 It wasn't a surprise that there were more books in his house than anything else. Shelves of them lined the sitting room drawers and he had (multiple) cabinets stacked with textbooks and ‘light’ reads.

 So, it came as quite a shock when a ridiculous scene and the very possibilities for an explanation unfolded before his very eyes. It was a paradox for something so wild to be happening to him. The very irony of him gave him the urge to scoff.

 The events of last night were a blur to him and he remembered only rumbles of laughter and glasses clinking against each other. They were celebrating Remus bravery. He had, finally, proposed to Tonks, albeit shy and stumbling like a loon. 

And, if he pressed harder, racked his brains for some explanation, he could faintly make out a girl clinging onto his arm through the stars beneath his eyelids.  
  
But, she didn’t have this kind of vivid hair color and she definitely had been flirting while the woman in front of him glared at him like he had kicked her dog and vomited on her baby.

It was a shame because the woman in front of him made James’s swallow multiple times, nervously.  
  
Besides that, James distinctly remembered falling on his bed and answering his phone which was persistently ringing. It had been a very drunk Sirius who kept nagging him on the issue that was his romantic life. Rightfully putting it as “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I liked you better when you were love-struck and you need some-”  
  
James had hung up and plopped on the bed, his heart throbbing painfully at the loneliness.  
  
“Did we, uh, do anything?”  
  
Snapping his eyes towards her, he is quick to break out in a dozen protests. “I-no, no, we didn’t.”  
  
The woman narrows her eyes and takes a step back. She probably thought he was a murderer. Sirius would get a kick out of it. “Who the hell are you, then?”  
  
“I’m the person who lives here. Who are you?”  
  
The woman laughs though there’s a noticeable tinge of fear and madness in her voice when she claims, “You’re crazy. This is my apartment.”

James exhales and props himself up with an elbow, the covers sliding down an inch. The woman’s eyes dart at his abs before she focuses her gaze firmly on his chin. A light blush coats her cheek. “Look, if you sleepwalked here, that's okay. I don't know how you’ve gotten here without the key and all but I’m willing to let it slide because you look pretty-”

The woman is resistant to his charms and unsuccessful attempts at flirting. She rolls her eyes and lays her velvet arms on her hips and assuming a condescending tone says, “Typical man. I am-”

“Hey!” James interrupts, affronted beyond words. For sure, he’s a proud feminist but whenever a woman starts to utter the syllables, ‘typical’, it's the worst insult. His disgust could be transmitted very clearly when he adds, “I resent that.”

“Stop acting like one, then!”

A growl forms its way up James’s throat. “Look, are we avoiding the fact that you’re in my apartment?”

“There’s a red stain on the pillowcase!” She interrupts, glaring at him with the power of the sun.

James stares at her for a second but his hands mechanically turn the pillow and he’s astonished to find she's right.

“Listen-” He begins, much more apprehensive now. It could be just a hunch.

“I dropped raspberry jam on it while I was watching the Notebook and there-,” She points at the desk, “-is where you can find a bill in the very first drawer.”

James opens it and shrugging, shifts a little so she can see there's nothing in there. The woman shakes her head, nearing hysterics.

Striding quickly towards the desk and does a double take. “Where's my photograph?”

“What photograph?” James groans as he stands up, wrapping the blankets around his torso. If Sirius were to find out he had a woman in his apartment after months of solitude, he’d cheer his arse off. If Sirius were to find out said woman who was a gorgeous redhead with pretty sparkling emerald eyes was a psychopath, he’d have squeezed James’s shoulder and chuckled.

James could hear him saying, “She seems like your type.”

He wouldn't be wrong. James had a certain tendency to fall for psychopathic redheads.

“The photograph with my sister! What did you do with it? Who are you?”

His head starts to pound. “I repeat, I’m the person who lives here.”

A beat of silence and her eyes scrutinize him and her shoulders relax. James sags down on the bed, gratefully.

“I’m calling the police.”

“Woah, whoa, whoa.”  James jumps, running a hand through his hair. The bed creaks, mournfully at the action. “Don't do that.”

“Get out, then!”

“I live here!”

Her lips purse and she makes a move to pluck the phone. She tries, anyway. For her hands ghosts through the phone like mist.

She licks her lips, testily and tries again resulting in her figure blurring radically.

Tangible silence, thick and heavy connect the two in one prolonged and profound silence.

James tried to digest the lump in his throat. His voice is very high pitched, almost a squeak when he says, “Well, alright then.”

 


End file.
